


Essence of Evil

by TheUFCVeteran



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Big Boss hired some sex slaves, Crack Fic, Gen, Single most crazy fic I've ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-12-21 21:37:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11953128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUFCVeteran/pseuds/TheUFCVeteran
Summary: Big Boss is feeling particularly peckish.Written from inside the mind of crazy Big Boss. So, not a first person fic, it's third person but it'll be written as how BB perceives things.Absolutely a crackfic. Literally and figuratively.Originally found the idea on orionrkt's Twitter account, the video it came from was titled "Metal Gear Solid V: A Parasitic Legacy", the creator is named The Snake Soup. So all credit goes to them for the inspiration!





	Essence of Evil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SailorStarDust1](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/gifts), [orionrkt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/orionrkt/gifts).



> I'm not the most knowledgable about the subjects I'm gonna tackle in this, so I might look like an idiot at points but I will do my research so I'm at least somewhat accurate. Certain parts may trigger some.

He was starting to sweat. That was the tell; priority one was to find some of the good stuff. He wondered if there remained any vials within the chopper. Prior to heading out, Big Boss would usually do a line. He called it, "purifying the senses". Said the ability to solely focus on the mission was unparalleled while under the influence. Not only did he suggest all of MSF give it a go, it was practically propaganda at this point. Posters were erected all round Mother Base, ranging from "Big Boss wants YOU to try the magic medicine!" all the way to "Enlist in our testing program for up to a 300% performance increase in the field!"

Really, it was always going to struggle to be a successful campaign early on, for MSF's soldiers were much too disciplined, or so they thought. Even so, Snake was persistent. Their resolve would crumble in time. On every new dawn, he would meet his comrades and ask them if they'd registered yet. On every new dawn, he was met with a resounding "No, Boss". Sad, but eventually acceptance would be the only option for the troops. It was only recently that Miller had warmed up to his notion. Of course, it only required one line. Didn't take long before he was on the radio begging for more. Snake could only chuckle. Soon enough the entirety of Mother Base would be licking his boots to get another taste, one way or another.

The gear of Big Boss rattled and clanked whilst slipping into the mess hall unnoticed. Snake came crashing past theunmissably huge dining table, hunting for the fridges. Fuck cocaine, now it was food. He needed sustenance right now, and nothing was going to stop him. Once he'd eaten then the search for happy dust could resume. Half eaten ribs forgotten from last night's dinner presented itself in fridge one which got ripped open. Good enough. Snake went face first, chomping on the remnants.

Fifteen minutes later, porcelain dinner plates were flung across the room. One unlucky plate landed on his big toe, thus it and all similar plates were thrown overboard. After that was done and dusted, extreme tiredness washed over Big Boss completely out of the blue. Sleep was stupid, however everyone had to succumb eventually. It'd only been nine days since the last visit to dreamland, he had no idea what the big deal was about. On a good cycle he could go twelve days or more without sleeping a wink. And with that, Snake dropped to the hard marble ground, out like a light.

* * *

"Snake, wake up! You're missing the action!"

Dazzling disco lights burned through Big Boss' eyelids, jolting him awake. Pop music blasted through his ears. MSF threw a party, apparently. Why the fuck wasn't he roused earlier? He brought a dry arm to his face, wiping a tired form from his eyes. The next logical step, get the hell up and party. It was 1973 and if you wasn't partying, you weren't living. Kaz kept one eye trained while his Boss observed the scene unfolding in front of him. Wasn't long before he locked eyes with his favourite half naked sex slave, Lori. Perfect timing, for a vial of cocaine was spotted poking from underneath her black bra.

This sent Snake wild. "Holy shit!", he exclaimed, eyes wide, bulldozing the slave face down onto the dining table. His soldiers together with Miller hastily backed away, for now was Big Boss' time to indulge in the pleasures of life.

Without hesitation, a vial, or rather,  _the_ vial was swiped from the bra of MSF's finest sex servant. Snake ignored the whimpers; they were routine at this stage. Honestly, why can't they all shut up? Enjoy the music, which just happened to be David Bowie's new single, Sorrow. Pushing his grudge aside, Big Boss poured the powdered drug in a line across a young and supple lower back. Just the type you'd want for this sort of thing.

"Stay still, honey,” Snake said, lowering his posture in preparation for the moment he'd been waiting for. Swiftly and decisively, Big Boss went down, slowly inhaling the line of cocaine, cherishing the experience. This shit was like fucking gold. A revelation, both for home use and on the battlefield. It entered his bloodstream almost instantaneously, preliminary effects becoming apparent without delay. Still happened to be a pleasant shock to the system. 

"That hit the spot,” he mumbled. Why go through all that hard work of rescuing people and taking out bases when he could just lay back, relax and do some blow? Life really didn't get any better. This was the golden age. Big Boss plonked himself down on Lori's back, probably fracturing a vertebrae or two in the process, but that wasn't important. What _was_ important was Snake's comfort. Crushed bones could be a little pointy, but eventually they broke down into little fragments, so that was all good. 

Hmm, he sure could go for a meal right now. All that action had just made him hungry again. Well this time he wasn't rummaging around cupboards and fridges. A staff member would fetch it - or else. Kazuhira happened to be in his immediate vicinity, perfect! Snake made a calculated move, bouncing off Lori and heading straight for Kaz. That motherfucker was the one. He'd bring the food. Now.

Kaz immediately stood up and nervously saluted upon catching sight of Big Boss. "B-Boss! What would you like now? More coc-" His pathetic blabbering was cut short as Snake sent his fist flying into Kaz's neck, crushing his trachea and immobilizing him. A smirk grew while he gazed over Miller's wimpy figure as it fell towards the hard floor, hands around his neck, gasping for air. Kneeling, Big Boss brought his XO's head up to eye level so he could admire his handiwork. Oh yeah. Soon enough there would be quite a lot of bruising around the neck area, and most likely swelling. Hah, what a half ass.

"Bring me some food. Now."

Lips quivering, body shuddering, a shaky response emerged. "B-but Boss, you ate all our food earlier? Remember?"

Hm. So he did. "Fuck earlier, find me something. Anything. Do it now before I throw you into a pool of chemicals." That was sure to send the fool running. 

Or not. Despite the gut of Miller urging him to comply and dart, the always argumentative mind offered a stern proclamation. "But Snake, there is n-"

"I said now!" came the thundering voice of an angry Big Boss.

Kazuhira Miller sensed the world shatter around him. That feeling of dread shot up into his core. He'd fucked up, and badly. The price was huge. You never question the Boss twice. Tracking every movement, he found his breath hitch while Snake drew his knife. Something was coming off. 

"Kaz... we've always been friends. You know this as well as I do. You've been a loyal servant, and slip ups happen. I get that. So I'm gonna be generous and give you three strikes. Consider this strike one. You do not want to find out what happens on your third strike. Now I'd love to let you go, but I can't do that. You've failed me, Miller. For that, you must provide a sacrifice. Consider it a contribution to our cause."

With that, Snake rammed his combat knife into Miller's left eye. The pain he would feel, a necessity so a lesson would be learned, yet there was other benefits. This could only strengthen their bond. You see, for once, Big Boss would have something in common. The Phantom Pain. Each morning, a sharp string brought him into the land of the living. It persisted throughout the day, every day. If they could share a common trait, the two's bond would become nearly unbreakable.

The screams Miller let out could've terrorised a whole nation. It was horrifying. The crows had surely fucked off at this point, just like in the movies. "Oh god, my eye! There's a knife in my eye!"

Only a brief statement escaped from Snake's lips. "Nice observation, dumbass. Food. This. Instant. Are we clear?"

Well if there was a record for the fastest nod ever, Miller had surely broken it by miles. Whimpering, he was sent into another state of agony and anguish as Snake yanked his knife from Miller's eye. As expected, a small pop. Miller's eyeball was now jammed on his knife.

Although, it smelled pretty nice... Must've been the fresh blood. Either way, it seemed quite safe to eat. Without hesitation, in Miller's plain view, he placed the knife in his mouth and removed the eye using blood stained teeth. Hah, Kaz was looking on in absolute horror. Well, who wouldn't? Losing an eye is pretty traumatic, Snake had first hand experience.

Rumbling arose from Snake's stomach. No better time to find out what a human eye tastes like.

He bit down. Initial impressions were... muddy, at best. There was no defining taste, yet the texture was incredibly odd. Like gristle mixed with a sponge. But the tin like flavour of the blood, superb! Gave it that extra kick. All in all, not bad. But if he were to really enjoy it, he'd need more blood. 

"Kaz, I want you to find some war orphans, preferably live ones, bring them back to Mother Base and let Paz carve their eyes out. Then you can kill them, I don't care. Make sure there's a generous amount of blood in there. I'm developing a taste for blood now. Now go!"

Within seconds, Kaz leaped into action, scampering along the Mess Hall's slippery floor while he made for the exit.

* * *

MSF's insane rave had died down to mere embers at this point. Everyone was tired, weary. Even cocaine couldn't keep them up anymore. Lori was long gone, probably about to die from internal haemorrhaging too. Shame, she was Snake's favourite. But oh well, more will come along. 

All of a sudden, the Mess Hall's double doors burst open. In came his XO, Miller, along with a tray of fresh, blood coated eyes from the African war orphans. 

"Snake! We searched high and low for these bad boys. Lot of history behind them. So fresh, you'd think it's still in the socket! We won't get many this good, so make the most of these!"

Oh.  _Oh_. Kaz wasn't kidding. Hell, they were still  _warm_. Fuck. Yes. Snake reached for the one that looked the bloodiest, somewhere among near the bottom of the bowl. He tried to admire the eyeball, however the excitement was too much. Grinning, the eye was flung to the rear of Snake's mouth, where it got compressed by his molars. Mm, that blood. Even fresher than Kaz's, somehow. Much, much softer than his XO's eye, too. It was like a hot knife through butter. His teeth sliced the eye in two with ease. Potent flavour too, like shrimp almost.

It wasn't possible to be happier. Accompanied by a friend, settled on his favourite slave, devouring the eyes of slain war orphans. All while being coked out of his mind.

Life was fucking glorious. 


End file.
